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Pandora wanted to spit in his face, but she could do nothing more than glare at him.
“Spare your apologies,” Apollo said, waving an idle hand. “She isn’t worth it. It’s her own damn fault this dark magic is wreaking havoc across the realms. It’s only fitting she should be sacrificed to put a stop to it.”
“But she is a goddess,” Aidoneus argued. “She is one of us.”
“She rescinded that title when she dabbled with the magic of the Titans,” Apollo snarled. “You said it yourself: there is no other way.”
Aidoneus fell silent, his lips growing thin and the wrinkle between his brows deepening. Pandora wanted to yell at him, to shake him. His sympathy toward her meant nothing if he was only going to stand by and watch her be sacrificed.
Something hot dripped onto her bare chest. She didn’t have to look to know it was Apollo’s blood.
Tears burned in her eyes. She couldn’t fight this. She couldn’t do anything.
Or could she?
Magic burned in her veins, struggling to be freed. Aidoneus and Apollo may have chained her with magic, but she could still wrap her powers around her own soul. Her own essence.
If she couldn’t cast magic outward, then she would have to cast it inward.
Blood of my blood, she thought, closing her eyes to channel her energy into her very being. I summon these dark forces and bind you in a curse. Let them suffer. Let them feel my wrath. Let them be consumed by my fury for all eternity.
Let my rage never die. As long as they shall live, so, too, will my vengeance.
Power thrummed within her. The ground began to quake, and dust rained from the ceiling.
“Now, Apollo,” Aidoneus groaned, no doubt struggling to contain Pandora. He thought she was trying to escape.
But he was wrong. And soon, he would be begging for mercy.
The thought made her want to laugh. She still could not speak, but her laughter echoed in her mind, ringing through her body. It continued to pulse within her, even as Apollo’s spell ripped her apart. Her flesh burned. Her bones broke. Sunlight and flame devoured her completely.
And still, she laughed.
With a jolt, Pandora awoke, her throat raw from her screams. Sweat coated her entire body, leaving her hair sticky against her neck. Her shift clung to her body, and her bedsheets were tangled around her legs. Her heart slammed against her rib cage, thundering louder than the storm raging in her mind. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, trying to block out the pain and trauma of those memories.
“They aren’t mine,” she whispered. “It wasn’t me. It didn’t happen to me.”
But it did happen. It happened to the real Pandora ages ago. Long before she was born and absorbed Pandora’s vengeful soul.
Before Apollo’s magic ripped her apart, Pandora had cursed him to live with her vengeance until he died.
And Apollo’s solution had been to imbue that curse into one of Gaia’s daughters. He shoved the problem into an innocent child, forcing the broken and damaged remnants of a fallen goddess into a brand new vessel as if he could wipe his hands clean of the mess she had caused.
Pandora covered her face with her hands as violent sobs wracked her body. Her shoulders shook. Her stomach heaved.
She couldn’t stay in this stifling room a moment longer.
The moon hung high in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the restless waters below. Somewhere in Elysium, Selene, the moon goddess, was keeping the brilliant white orb aloft in the sky.
Pandora hadn’t met Selene, but she respected her. In some religions, Hecate was seen as the goddess of the dark moon, and Selene was revered as her ally. If Pandora hadn’t been so consumed with her plan for revenge, she might have become friends with the goddess.
She might have done a lot of things differently, were it not for her revenge.
Just a bit longer, and you’ll be free, she told herself. Soon…
After wrapping a shawl around herself, Pandora strode toward the doors of her room, then faltered, her gaze turning to the open balcony doors.
No, she wouldn’t be using the doors at all. She had a better idea.
